


darling heart, i loved you from the start

by seventhstar



Series: come on, baby, won't you hold on to me? [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Enthusiastic Consent, Fertility Issues, Impregnation, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: (I know I might be too old,Viktor said.And I know they say omega-omega pregnancies aren’t as strong—That’s just an old wives tale. It’s not like I’m young, either.Then—you want to?With you,Yuuri said. He touched Viktor’s face.Only with you.)





	darling heart, i loved you from the start

Yuuri finds the two empty pill bottles in the bathroom while he’s reorganizing.

(Okay, so he’s really just rearranging. Viktor already keeps the bathroom meticulously organized, because now that they live together, it’s the only way both their products fit.)

He stands there, briefly distracted, and holds the two bottles in his hands. He and Viktor finished their first round of fertility enhancers last week; there’s a big red heart on the calendar for the day their heat is supposed to start.

Their heat—their apartment—their future children. Yuuri sighs and tips the bottles into the trash. The sound of Viktor humming, off-key, as he cleans out the kitchen is deeply soothing. He’s not nesting alone; they’re getting ready together.

Pre-heat always makes Yuuri a little paranoid. But Viktor’s presence softens all the hard edges away.

He stacks their used towels up on top of the vanity. The assembly of their nest is the last thing, always. If building a nest for himself is intimate, building a nest with Viktor is foreplay. Every time their hands brush as they reach for the same pillow, every time they lay down a sheet together with a corner in each hand, every time Yuuri buries his face in one of Viktor’s threadbare shirts and inhales and imagine coming all over it—

Yuuri forces himself to loosen his white-knuckled grip on the towels. He turns his attention back to the overcrowded bathroom cabinet.

Soon.

* * *

Yuuri barely makes it home in time.

His blood is pounding, sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes, his thighs slick. He has to try twice to get the front door unlocked, and then has to waste precious moments locking up, stripping, gathering up his clothes for the nest. Finally, naked and trembling, he makes his way into the bedroom.

It’s warm. The lights are dim. Viktor is sprawled there, cradled by their nest on all sides, face pressed into a pillow that’s been wrapped in Yuuri’s Olympic Team jacket. There are dimples at the base of his spine, and for a moment, all the desperation in Yuuri stills. Viktor is right there, safe in Yuuri’s nest, waiting for him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, and he rolls over and holds out his arms.

Yuuri doesn’t hesitate to scramble into the nest and fling himself into them.

He buries his face against Viktor’s neck, traps Viktor’s legs between his own, drags his wrists over Viktor’s back. He’ll soak Viktor’s skin in his scent; he’ll wear Viktor on him until they’re indistinguishable. Viktor’s hand curls over the side of Yuuri’s neck, pressing slow circles over the scent gland there, sending sparks of pleasure down Yuuri’s spine.

Yuuri shifts his thigh so that he can feel Viktor’s wet cunt against it.

“You first,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Yuuri won’t feel satisfied until he knows Viktor is.

Their supplies are in a bag hanging off the side of the bed. Yuuri disentangles himself from Viktor reluctantly to reach into it; he grabs it and empties it into the nest. There’s toys, lube, two bottles of water. Viktor lounges against the pillows and the crumpled shirts and rolled up towels, on top of the five layers of sheets, legs spread. He’s red all the way down. There’s a bright gold ring locked around the base of his cock—it’ll defeat the purpose if he comes anywhere but inside Yuuri, after all.

Yuuri kisses a line up the inside of Viktor’s thigh, lips lingering, gripping Viktor’s knee to hold him still. The tip of his tongue flicks out against Viktor’s labia—Yuuri savors the taste of slick—and Viktor cries out and shoves Yuuri’s head down between his legs.

He’s hot under Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri sucks and kisses at him, fucking him teasingly with his tongue. By the time Viktor climaxes, moaning extravagantly, Yuuri’s face and cunt are both soaked. His cock is throbbing.

“Yuuri…”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, and he crawls up Viktor’s body to kiss him.

They rock against each other. Viktor’s so eager, trying to catch Yuuri’s cock between his thighs. Yuuri winds his arms around him and kisses his mouth, his jaw, down his neck. Their slick runs down each other’s legs. Yuuri feels the tip of his cock brush against Viktor’s cunt, feels the heat of it, and groans.

“Ready?” He presses his nose against the flush on the side of Viktor’s neck.

“Give it to me, Yuuri.” Viktor’s hands slip down his back, nails raking over his ass, and then Yuuri jumps as he feels something hard and oblong press into his cunt. Viktor slips the vibrator into him, and then it switches on. The low thrum of it, inside him, pressed right against where Yuuri is sensitive—it’s too much for a moment, and all Yuuri can do is cling.

Viktor holds onto him.

Yuuri pushes open his thighs and thrusts in. Viktor is so warm, so wet. He throws back his head with a cry as Yuuri starts fucking him brutally; he wraps himself around Yuuri so much it’s hard to tell where his body ends and Yuuri’s begins. Viktor wants it, so Yuuri braces himself against Viktor’s body and gives it to him.

“Oh—oh, please—”

“Vitya—”

The scent of sex drives every other thought out of Yuuri’s mind. He loses himself in the feel of Viktor’s cunt, in how Viktor clenches around him. It doesn’t feel like Viktor’s skin is on his skin. It feels like he’s wandered out of his body and their souls have locked together. It’s not enough—if he and Viktor were like this permanently, trading ecstasy for ecstasy, it wouldn’t be enough.

He shoves Viktor down, into the nest they built together, and reaches between them to touch his swollen cock. Viktor cries out, something that might be Yuuri’s name, and comes—his eyes snap shut—Yuuri loses it at the feel of him squeezing, fills him up so hard it almost hurts.

Yuuri pulls out, slowly, and fumbles in the nest until he finds the artificial knot he and Viktor picked out together. It’s bright pink; Yuuri slides it in until it’s lodged in Viktor’s cunt, and then pumps the inflation bulb until the knot twice is the size, stretching Viktor’s hole while he squirms deliciously.

“Hah,” Viktor pants. “That’s good. Can you—”

Yuuri crawls into his arms, and rolls over so that Viktor can spoon against him from behind. He fumbles on a cock ring—gold to match Viktor’s—and puts the remote control for the vibrator into Viktor’s hand.

Viktor turns the vibration up, his other arm around Yuuri’s waist. His fingers play over Yuuri’s stomach.

“Turn it off when you’re ready,” Yuuri says. He covers Viktor’s hand with his own.

The steady buzz of the vibrator inside him is so good. Viktor, holding onto him, keeping him awash in pleasure, taking care of him in turn with his lips behind Yuuri’s ear, his breath hot over Yuuri’s tingling skin. He pushes on Yuuri’s stomach, and Yuuri wonders if Viktor is imagining him pregnant.

He rocks back against Viktor’s erection, which is nestled in the cleft of Yuuri’s ass.

Viktor’s hand dips down between his thighs.

“Ah!”

Yuuri jumps as Viktor tugs on the cord coming out of the vibrator—not hard enough to pull it out, just enough to make Yuuri feel it. He yanks again, and Yuuri clenches down without thinking, trying to keep the toy inside him. It becomes like a game, as Viktor teases him with the anticipation of emptiness and Yuuri tries to focus enough to keep it in.

Finally he loses, and Viktor pulls the toy out of his unresisting cunt and switches it off.

There’s a metallic click as Viktor unlatches the cock ring he’s wearing, and then he’s turning Yuuri over and coaxing him on top. He ends up straddling Viktor’s hips, holding himself up on trembling thighs. Viktor is holding both his hands.

Yuuri mounts him. He and Viktor both reach for his cock together, and they ease it into Yuuri’s dripping entrance. Viktor feels exactly right, his heartbeat palpable inside him as Yuuri slides down, and when he’s fully seated he grabs Viktor’s hands again and sighs.

“I’m not gonna last,” Yuuri says.

“Me neither.”

Viktor’s cock is perfect. Yuuri can barely stand to move, to have it not inside him for even a second; he rides Viktor until his muscles burn, lets the movement of Viktor’s hips turn him into a wet, whimpering mess. Yuuri grips him with his cunt, digs his nails into the backs of Viktor’s soft hands, fucks himself wildly until Viktor yanks him down for a rough kiss.

They come together, both of them quivering, cries muffled by each other’s mouths.

Yuuri lies there on top of him, boneless and happy, while Viktor slides the other artificial knot into him. Yuuri’s is blue, and smaller; Viktor inflates it slowly, petting Yuuri’s neck as he does.

“Too big?”

“It’s alright. That’s it.” Yuuri shifts; the knot feels odd inside him, but it doesn’t hurt, not like he thinks the enormous pink one shoved in Viktor would.

Viktor smells so good. Yuuri fits his head into the crook of his shoulder and breathes in the scent of him, nose pressed against his reddened scent gland. Viktor’s wrists run down his back; the inside of his thigh hooks over Yuuri’s hip. The whole nest smells like heat now.

He can feel the next wave of lust rising up in him like a tide. He holds Viktor’s hand, and closes his eyes, and revels in their closeness, and waits.

* * *

In the last hours of their heat, the frantic need for each other abates, and they curl up in the now ruined arrangement of clothes and pillows and wait it out.

“Here,” Yuuri says, passing Viktor the bottle of water he’s just downed half of. Viktor, mouth full of energy bar, accepts it.

Viktor swallows. “I might be pregnant right now,” he says, and he puts a hand on his belly. Yuuri does, too. “You might be pregnant right now.”

“Yeah.”

It’s inadequate, but it’s all Yuuri has. He does want children, but he’s always assumed he’d have them, in an abstract kind of way. It’s only here, at Viktor’s side, both them knotted and well-fucked in their attempts to impregnate each other, that it feels real.

It’s different for Viktor, he knows, who lost his family early and who’s always longed for more than he has. Isolated by fame, orphaned by fate, Viktor’s been dreaming about this moment for years. When he first asked Yuuri, in a hushed voice that gave away that he was scared to ask, Yuuri’s heart broke for him.

( _I know I might be too old,_ Viktor said. _And I know they say omega-omega pregnancies aren’t as strong—_

_That’s just an old wives tale. It’s not like I’m young, either._

_Then—you want to?_

_With you,_ Yuuri said. He touched Viktor’s face. _Only with you.)_

“It’s kind of funny.”

Yuuri blinks. “What’s funny?”

“You’re the one who’s attracted to alphas,” Viktor says, “but I’m the one who likes being knotted.”

“Mm.”

There’s a buzz as Yuuri’s phone goes off. Yuuri has to think for a minute to remember where his phone even is—he hasn’t looked at it since his heat hit—and he eventually unearths it from the pocket of the pants he was wearing when it happened.

He’s surprised it’s still on; he’s surprised it’s still functioning, considering the mess they’ve made of the nest.

“Mom wants you to call her.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember. I’ll call her later.”

Yuuri hesitates. “She, uh, she wants us to move to Japan while we’re pregnant.”

“…really?”

“Do you want to?”

“It’d be a lot for your parents, wouldn’t it?”

“I think they want to meet their grandkids as soon as possible.”

“Grandkids, huh?” Viktor wipes the sweat off his brow. He’s grinning. “I never met my grandparents.”

“Well, our kids are going to have three.”

“Three?”

“Minako.”

“Five, then. Yakov. Lilia.”

Beams of sunlight are falling on Viktor’s face, peeking through the slats of the blinds. He looks radiant, and Yuuri draws closer to him, like he’s the iron to Viktor’s magnet, like Viktor is air and Yuuri’s just come up from underwater. He’s spent so much of their relationship worrying about the future; it strikes him, as the light gilds Viktor forehead to chest, that the future is here. Between them, inside them, cradled between them, is the beginnings of what will be their new family.

“We could name them Ina and Bauer.”

“No, Vitya.”

“And there are three jumps Yuuko and Takeshi haven’t used!”

“You’re banned from naming now,” Yuuri says. “That’s it. We are not naming our children Waltz Jump and Spread Eagle—”

“I call Waltz Jump!” Viktor rubs his stomach. “Do you hear that, baby? Your brother or sister, Spread Eagle—”

“Viktor, I swear to god—”

“What are they going to call us?”

“Huh?”

Viktor frowns. “If I’m your baby’s sire, and you’re my baby’s sire…won’t that be confusing?”

“I have no idea,” Yuuri admits. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“…we could name them after spins. Biellman, or Butterfly, or Pancake—”

“Vitenka!”

He tackles Viktor, and the only way to make him stop talking him is to kiss him, of course. Yuuri buries his fingers in Viktor’s sweaty hair, chases his tongue with his own, winds his limbs with Viktor’s limbs until they’re touching in every possible way. The outside world is forgotten; their nest, their bodies, the heat of Viktor’s lips and hands make up the only things in existence.

Yuuri lets himself get lost.

* * *

The tests are sitting on the counter, side by side, next to two strips of tape labeled _Viktor_ and _Yuuri,_ to keep them from getting mixed up.

They’re sitting outside the bathroom, the timer running, holding hands to keep from checking early.

“It’s only our first try,” Viktor says.

“We can keep trying.” Yuuri nuzzles at Viktor’s neck.

They lapse into silence. Viktor is hanging onto Yuuri’s hand so hard. Yuuri wishes he could wipe away all the things people have said to them, about how they ought to hire an alpha to donate or how the babies will be confused without a “real sire”. Yuuri’s normally the one who gets insecure about things, but ever since that first doctor told Viktor he might be too old—

It’ll be fine if they can’t do it this way. They’ve talked about it. There are options. Yuuri’s not going to love Viktor or their future family any less, no matter what path they choose to make it.

If only he knew how to tell Viktor that.

_Beep!_

“Should we look?”

“I can’t! You do it!”

But Viktor doesn’t let go of him, and follows Yuuri into the bathroom to look. Yuuri sucks in a breath, eyes fixed on the tile, and braces himself.

* * *

They don’t, in fact, name their children after figure skating terminology.

(They name the family dog Pancake instead. The kids approve.)


End file.
